Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Review of The Apartment (1960)

It is hard to imagine a nicer, and more well-meaning and
dignified character than Jack Lemmon’s C.C Baxter in Billy Wilder’s “The
Apartment”. We first meet him in a voiceover, where he talks us through his
company, and his role in it. There is a lot of talk of “floors”; he is on the
19th. A pan through the floor he works at reveals him to be an
office drone; one of many, doing a job that involves a typewriter, paper, and
one of those wheels with business cards and contact names on it. We learn
shortly after that he rents out his apartment to men from his office, so they
can have an affair in it. Often, these will over-run and he will wait outside
his own apartment. He has earned a reputation amongst those in his apartment
that he does not particularly want.

These early scenes are among the most crucial in the film,
because they set up Baxter as a weak, yet honourable man. We sense, from the
way that he allows himself to be booted out of his apartment very late at
night, that he rents out his apartment purely because he doesn’t wish to upset
anyone. A number of times, for example, he just about works up the courage to
tell someone that no, he wants his apartment to himself, but he always buckles
right at the last moment. With this said, the fact that each visit from his
colleagues earns him brownie points towards a promotion doesn’t help either. He
is a man bulldozed by “the system”.

From this description, you would expect Lemmon to be a timid
and quiet individual, but look at how he moves in his scenes. The film is shot,
unusually for one made in 1960, in 2:35.1 widescreen, and he uses all of the
space surrounding him. He knows when to stoop his shoulders, when to stand up
straight, how to moderate his voice. His performance highlights a complete
control, and understanding of the character. Take, for example, the scene where
he has just bought a bowler hat for $15, and is showing it to his love
interest, Miss Kuberlik (a shining Shirley Maclaine). He tries it on at a
number of angles, and his smile never wavers, even though she is clearly
depressed and uninterested. He is a man of ceaseless, boundless energy, and he
radiates at the centre of this film like a beacon.

It is a good job, then, that the film surrounds him with
material worthy of this performance. More than worthy, in fact; this is a film
that, despite its billing as a comedy, is tackling some very heavy themes. For
example, a major plot point about halfway through the movie is that, upon being
jilted and basically prostituted by the insensitive cad Jeff D. Sheldrake (Fred
MacMurray), Miss Kuberlik intentionally takes an overdose of sleeping pills.
This isn’t meant to be funny, and this is where the film, for me, turned into a
drama; we take the plight of this poor woman very seriously, and the ensuing
scenes where Baxter nurses her back to health are given more gravitas and
pathos as a result. We come to care, deeply about these two characters, and we
feel as though we are personally entwined in their happiness come the closing
scene.

However, yes, there are moments in the film that are very
funny. Lemmon being propositioned by a neighbour in the apartment block to
donate his body for medical research, on account of the lovemaking being heard,
is a masterpiece of understated comedy in and of itself. And the film is
careful around its steamy centre, rising above smut and allowing for little
glimpses and clues to come through here and there; the, might I suggest, rather
phallic nasal decongestant that Lemmon uses in a key scene. With regards to the
dramatic elements, as opposed to clashing with each other, the film settles
into a sort of harmony, with one element feeding the other. It’s a balancing
act and a tightrope walk, and the film does it carefully, and with precision.
You can view it as a progression from the pure comic theatricality of Lemmon
and Wilder’s previous film, Some Like It Hot.

What we are left with is ultimately a film that is almost
joyous. Not necessarily because of the content, but because of the steady hands
of the direction, acting, writing and production. It is a film that puts us at
ease from the opening shot, and we watch, spellbound, as this group of geniuses
weave a timeless tale that defies expectations. It’s a giddy and exciting work,
and the enthusiasm and craftsmanship of all involved is nearly palpable.